Footprints
by BarneyBetty
Summary: 'Tenderness can be found in the most ruthless of people'. Bella Swan is selfless and kind, a stark contrast to the cruelty and contempt in which she is treated. When Edward Cullen enters her life, he changes her entire existence, showing her love, support and kindness. Unfortunately Edward has his own secrets and is known to the outside world as a man with no mercy. Mobward, AH.
1. Prologue

**FOOTPRINTS**

 **Prologue**

I grunted as he lightly pushed on my shoulders, my back knocking against the cold tiled wall. His strong, rugged hand wove into my hair as he looked directly into my eyes, seeking permission. I roughly grabbed his neck with the palm of my hand and as our lips met, I felt my entire body ignite, a contrast to the cold wall behind me.

 _'Fire and Ice'_

I whimpered as I felt the kiss deepen, his breath, a delicate blend of honey and cinnamon filled my lungs and I gasped as I felt his fingers gently caress the small of my back before tearing the fabric barrier that was my dress. My heart began to accelerate and I could feel goose bumps erupting at my arousal.

"Beautiful" He seductively whispered in my ear before I felt his tender, tantalizing lips on my collarbone. I moaned as I tilted my head, clenching my fist into his auburn hair as his hand lightly grazed one of my breasts, teasingly ...

"Edward!" The voice startled me, and my eyes widened with terror as I heard the distinctive cock of a firearm.

* * *

 _ **Authors Note:-**_

 _ **Hi All,**_

 _ **I have been reading fanfiction for quite a long time and I couldn't resist writing my own. This is just a short little teaser prologue and does not outline the length of my future chapters. I would appreciate it if you could take the time to leave me a review as it would really brighten my day.**_

 _ **Thank you :)**_


	2. Chapter I - La Mia Bella Principessa

**Hi All, I am so blown away with the response I have received for this story. My prologue was very short and I did not expect much feedback. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed and added Footprints to their favourite stories. To my guest reviewers who I was unable to privately respond, thank you for taking the time to leave me your thoughts. I am truly grateful! This is another short chapter but Edward will soon be taking over and the story will begin to unfold with much longer installments.**

* * *

 _ **Chapter I - La Mia Bella Principessa**_

 _ **My Beautiful Princess**_

 **'How can you depend on others, when even your own shadow leaves you when your engulfed in darkness.'**

I stood motionless, my eyes wide with fear, my breath entering my lungs in sharp, laboured gasps. I dropped to the floor, the kitchen knife gripped tightly in my bloody hand. I could still feel his strong, filthy fingers on my neck and I started to hyperventilate as I stared at his lifeless body.

I let out a strangled, anguished cry as the cell phone that laid strewn, at his feet began to ring. The shrill noise contrasting against the eerily quiet walls of my home. I moved to try and retrieve it, knowing I needed to call the police. I whimpered loudly as the movement jostled my shoulder and I dropped the knife with haste, moving to grip my arm as I tried to support the weight with my opposite hand.

My heart was pounding rapidly in my ears and I felt myself sag against the kitchen cabinet, trying to quell the dizziness that was causing my head to spin. My eyelids started to flutter closed and I couldn't help, but welcome the darkness that engulfed me ...

There was a delicate pressure on my forehead and I couldn't bring myself to tear my eyes open. I hazily tried to process what was happening, but my memory was too blurred, too cloudy.

I couldn't control the soft sigh that escaped my lips as I managed to ascertain the pressure was someone's gentle fingers, softly grazing my hairline. I had never felt so content, so protected. I shifted slightly, letting out a sharp hiss of pain as my movement disturbed my aching limbs.

"Carlisle!" The voice spoke urgently and it compelled me to try, and open my eyes. It was a difficult task though, my eyelids were extremely heavy and once I had managed to peel them open, my vision was blurred, unfocused and I felt disorientated. There was a rustling noise and then footsteps, rapidly coming closer. I started to panic, I was confused, suddenly frightened and my arms flailed subconsciously before I mewled in agony.

"Ssh Bella, you're safe here." It was the same voice, only the urgency had been replaced with concern and tenderness.

I tried to focus, I wanted to try to clear the haze ... but it was impossible. I was too dazed and as my head groggily slumped, I was sure I felt fragile lips press against my forehead before a voice whispered in my ear. "La mia bella principessa".

 _I was struggling to grasp what, was happening. It was a very surreal feeling and yet I couldn't fathom if this was a nightmare or a memory ..._

 _I was holding the kitchen knife in my right hand, trying to concentrate as I forced the blade through the vegetable. My eyes were stinging and I tightly squinted them for several moments, trying to stop the inevitable tears from falling. I tried to swallow the lump which was beginning to form in my throat and I dropped the knife, holding myself with my arm._

 _I breathed deeply, trying to stifle the grief, but my broken ribs protested and I forced myself to take slow shallow breaths. I stood still for several moments, leaning on the countertop for support. My heart had splinted into small fragments and I felt more broken than shattered glass ..._

 _Footsteps, heavy and staggered footsteps. My heart accelerated with anxiety as they approached, closer and closer ..._

 _I couldn't breathe ... his fingers were tightening around my neck ... I was searching for something, my hands shaking frantically. A knife ... my hands shook ..._ I killed him, I killed James ... I murdered my husband!

* * *

 _ **Authors Note - Thank you all for reading. I have plans to write the next few chapters from Edward's eyes as he will be able to give more of an insight to the story at the moment and the chapters will increase vastly in length. I hope you like hearing from him as he may be taking the reigns for quite some time.**_

 _ **Thank you :)**_


	3. Chapter II - Glass Houses

_**Chapter II - Glass Houses**_

 **Edward Cullen**

 **'I never lie because I don't fear anyone. You only lie when your afraid.'**

"Edward!"

My eyes rose from the computer screen and the sound of my fingers heavily tapping the keyboard ceased. I watched shrewdly as my youngest brother; Emmett closed the door quietly and occupied the seat in front of my desk.

"It would appear that we have a situation." Emmett's hand rested on the holster, nestled on his right hip, he appeared anxious.

"James Hunter?" I questioned, trying to sound nonchalant. Emmett nodded his head once, confirming my suspicions as he watched me closely, trying to calculate my course of action.

I slowly rose from the chair and moved towards the coat hanger which was situated in the corner of my office. I could feel Emmett's eyes on me as I lifted my blazer and slowly fitted my arms through it's sleeves.

"Is Jasper aware?" My question seemed to catch Emmett off guard and he paused for several moments before responding.

"No!"

"Ensure he's informed, and ask Garrett to get the car ready. The three of us are going for a little ride." My instruction was clear and concise as I deliberately left no room for argument. His eyebrows raised in what appeared to be bewilderment and I couldn't help, but smirk at his perplexed expression. He obviously wasn't expecting me to handle this discovery with such composure. After a few minutes of silence, he lifted himself from the chair and left the room without speaking a word.

The leather sheath sat in the corner of my desk caught my eye and a wry, sadistic sneer formed on my lips. I pictured myself holding the Busse Battle Mistress in my right hand, my fingers gently stroking its razor sharp, ten inch blade as my eyes focused directly on those of James Hunter's.

Footsteps echoed on the marble flooring as I delved into the base of my pocket, fumbling for the key to my office.

"Edward," I pursed my lips tightly, locking the door before cautiously turning towards the source of the voice.

"Mother," I acknowledged as I grit my teeth together tightly, trying to refrain from snapping at her.

"Did you see what time that filthy, gold digging, floozy emerged from her bedroom this morning?" Her tone was bitter and I pinched the bridge of my nose in an attempt to control my temper. It was a difficult task as I could feel the irritation starting to boil to the surface, I was seething.

"If you are referring to my sister-in-law, her name is Esme." My eyes blazed, my nostrils flaring as she faltered, taking a small, teetering step backwards. "Esme spent last night at the hospital working the evening shift, and I would have expected her to have slept longer."

My mother lifted the whiskey glass she was holding to her lips, swallowing audibly before chugging the remainder of the fluid. "Unseemly! A career woman, living in this house. It isn't appropriate Edward, she needs to be controlled."

My legs marched towards her with great ferocity and she gasped as I roughly grabbed her arm. "Esme is respectful, loving and loyal. Qualities you sincerely lack and you will not disrespect her in my home." I grabbed the empty glass of whiskey from her hand and hurled it against the wall in an attempt to vent my mounting frustration. The glass fragments sharply splashed as they fell against the hard floor.

"You should be ashamed of yourself Edward. Your late father would never have treated me so abominably." She attempted to wrench her arm free from my grasp as she spoke and I tightened my hold, my temper flaring making me more violent.

"My father indulged you, showered you with gifts and affection. Yet, I spent the entirety of my youth watching you destroy him. The alcohol consumed you and now your nothing but a vicious and vulgar woman. Those in glass houses should not throw stones Elizabeth, but you've thrown too many and now ... now your heart is as sharp and splintered as the glass house that stands at your feet."

Several seconds passed and the only sound that could be heard was my chest, heaving at the intensity of my emotions. I could feel nearly thirty years of bottled hatred, caused by my mother; Elizabeth Cullen, festering and threatening to erupt at any possible moment. Nothing but the surface had been scratched here and I was concerned that this was only the tip of the iceberg.

A single tear rolled down her cheek and I released her arm immediately, as if I had been burnt. The desire to leave became more urgent. I didn't regret my words, I just couldn't stay and face the consequences. The phrase; 'a bat out of hell' filtered into my thoughts as I scrambled away, trying to place as much distance between me and my mother as possible.

A figure caught my eye as I passed the stairs and I hesitated before slowly approaching. She was sat on the bottom step, hunched over so I couldn't see her face. "Esme," I whispered. She lifted her head slowly and I couldn't help, but feel a little out of my depth as I watched her eyes fill with unshed tears. "How much did you hear?" The question gingerly fell from my lips as I unconsciously run my fingers through my disheveled hair. It was a peculiarity of mine when I felt awkward or irate.

"Enough," She responded huskily.

My hand reached forward and gently grasped hers as she tried to smile reassuringly. "Take no heed." I uttered and then in an act of consolation, I brought her hand to my lips and placed a soft, delicate kiss to her knuckles.

Esme giggled lightheartedly at my behaviour. "Always the gentleman." Her voice had a teasing edge to it and her words caused my cheeks to flush scarlet with embarrassment. Her laughter echoed in my ears as I turned and abruptly departed.

Jasper and Emmett were waiting for me by the black stretch limo and I was pleased to observe that both men were astutely accessing the grounds and looked prepared for the possibility of any threat. We prided ourselves on diligence as it usually marked the difference between life and death. Negligence was the cause of my father's demise and I promised myself that I would learn from his mistakes.

Garrett opened the car door as I approached, acknowledging me with a simple bow of his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Garrett, I hope Kate is well?" I inquired as I climbed into the backseat. His eyes sparkled with mirth as he seemed to consider his answer.

"Your cousin definitely gives me a run for my money." He replied, grinning widely.

I chuckled heartily in response, "Kate certainly is a feisty character."

"Yeah, you bet she is." Emmett boomed as both he and Jasper tumbled into the car from the opposite side. "Do you remember last Christmas when Kate was distributing her own clothing line and our mother chastised her about the dangers of putting a career before your family?" Emmett spoke with such exuberance. The adoration he felt for his cousin was unmistakable.

"I could never forget that day," Jasper interjected while ducking his head to peer under the frame of the car, enabling him a better view of Garrett.

"I thought Alice was going to wet herself laughing when Kate focused her gaze directly on Mrs. Cullen and didn't once break eye contact while responding; 'I apologize that my decision to try and further my career makes you feel so insecure Aunt.'" Jasper paused as all four of us cackled with laughter at his attempt to imitate Kate's melodic voice. Once we had managed to compose ourselves, he continued to recount the story.

"I remember Kate's eyes were shining with such amusement as she spoke and it has to be said, the girl is in her element when she's causing trouble. The moment Kate started to rummage around in her handbag, I think we were all a little concerned and intrigued to see what trick she had up her sleeve. She produces this document and hands it to Mrs. Cullen while speaking; 'I took the liberty of typing up your resume, to ensure you wouldn't feel excluded. Unfortunately it's a little short as your only qualification is sucking the barrel dry.'"

"Oh Jasper, if you continue to impersonate Kate's voice with such passion, I just may have to drop down on one knee. I think I may be marrying the wrong girl." Garrett purred, winking at Jasper playfully.

"Do you want me to shoot you?" Jasper responded, his hand reaching towards his holster, his face stoic.

Garrett gasped audibly as his hand reached towards his eye, feigning to remove a stray tear. "Oh, your words wound me." He sighed dramatically before slamming the door closed with great haste, causing the car to vibrate at the sudden movement.

"Awah, young love." Emmett gushed, blowing a kiss in Jasper's direction as we drove towards the electronic gates that were situated at the end of our property.

I rolled my eyes at their antics, they were both trying to appear oblivious, unaware of their surroundings and I was proud to have them at my side.

"I am thankful you are both here, beside me. I marvel at the natural talent you both possess." They both gawked at me, clearly puzzled at my words.

"A few minutes ago, we were exchanging banter with Garrett. Enjoying the moment and yet ... I watched the pair of you, alert and keenly aware of the environment surrounding us, despite horsing around. It's a gift to always remain so vigilant, with so little effort."

"I don't know Edward ... sometimes, I think it's a curse." Jasper's eyes cast downwards as he spoke. His response, silencing me.

If I was being honest, this existence wasn't of my choosing and I understood why Jasper harboured those feelings, we were cursed. My father groomed me to remain strong and ruthless in a world of violence and brutality. I'm a demon, a fallen angel, and my actions tonight will be proof of this because James Hunter is going to die. His death is going to be slow and agonizing, he's going to look into my eyes and appeal for clemency. But primarily, he is going to be an example to all police officers who have exchanged our money for their silence. His death will send a clear message; the Cullen family will not be betrayed.

When we arrived at our destination; my expression was grim. The rain was lashing furiously against the sidewalk, and I wasn't wearing my water-resistant overcoat.

Garrett rushed to open the door and as I stepped out of the car, I couldn't prevent the slight shudder as my flesh erupted in goose bumps. This wasn't due to the cold temperature, my natural instincts were heightened, something about this situation felt awry.

"Thank you, Garrett." I paused, eyeing the car shrewdly. "The limo is a little too conspicuous, take a ride around the block. We will call you when we're ready." My voice was a low grumble, slightly muffled by the torrential downpour, and as I focused my gaze directly on Emmett, it didn't escape my notice that his brunette hair was already darkening, droplets of water dripping from his long, curly locks.

A raven perching itself on the chain link fence captured my attention, distracting me. It's ivory, alabaster eye, contrasted against the opaque, shadow blue clouds, which had darkened due to the storm. A beautiful azure mist surrounded it's sable, unyielding pupil that was fixated directly on me. My body convulsed as I involuntary shivered. Is the raven an omen? I was starting too loose grip on reality as vivid images filled my imagination. A weight was crushing my windpipe, suffocating me ...

"Edward, are you with us?" My senses hastily returned as Emmett's hand knocked against my shoulder. "Are you with us?" He repeated, clearly agitated by my lack of response.

"Yes," I exclaimed hoarsely, my breathing slightly ragged.

I busily scanned the area, mutely accessing with my eyes before gesturing towards the side of the property, with a bob of my head. Emmett and Jasper followed my gaze and I raised my eyebrows as recognition filtered across their faces. One of us needed to position ourselves at the rear end of the building. A precaution necessary if Hunter attempted to bolt. I smirked as I watched Emmett, rubbing his hands with glee before springing into action. He took a great deal of satisfaction in catching 'runners'.

"Sometimes I worry about him." Jasper muttered sarcastically, I chuckled in response, clapping my hand against his back.

As we made our way towards the entry door, I risked a glance over my shoulder. The raven was nowhere in sight.

"Did you hear that?" Jasper asked, his forefinger hovering in front of the doorbell.

"Yes, Emmett perhaps?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing in disbelief of my own theory.

"Not unless he's taken to caterwauling like a girl. Which could be plausible ..."

"But not likely." We both voiced in synchronization.

My hand reached out to grip the door handle, hoping it was unlocked. I didn't particularly relish the thought of trying to force entry. We didn't want inquisitive neighbours coming to investigate a noise and calling the police when they catch a glimpse of two men, breaking into a house, with both their weapons drawn.

A breath that I hadn't even realized I had been holding escaped my lips as the door creaked open and a few muttered, incoherent curse words flew out of my mouth at the noise. A knot was starting to form in the base of my stomach in uncharacteristic apprehension as we cautiously entered the house.

My ears pricked as I heard a faint click, followed by a muffled rattling sound. I hesitated mid-stride before peeking over my shoulder to investigate, and I watched as Jasper adjusted the door's security chain into place. I nodded my head at his action, affirming my agreement. We couldn't afford any unforeseen visitors barging their way through.

I nudged my elbow against Jasper's before wordlessly pointing two fingers in the direction of the staircase. He swiftly bowed his head once, acknowledging my request to thoroughly search the second floor.

My hand reached for the pistol, cushioned against my right hip and I instinctively turned the safety catch off before moving to search each room, my weapon poised in my outstretched hands.

A low feral growl rumbled within my chest at the scene that greeted me as I reached the kitchen, I dropped my arms, the firearm, limply hanging between my fingers. There was no mistaking the motionless, bloodstained body, lying at my feet, it was most certainly James Hunter. I crouched down next to him, placing my fingers against his cold neck. His pulse was absent and I let out a fierce roar as my hands seized the garbage bin, throwing it across the room, my temper flaring. I could no longer be the one to claim his life, I was furious!

My eyes frantically roamed the kitchen as I tried to ascertain who was responsible for this, and it was then that I saw another figure.

My stomach churned again and I felt myself heave, suddenly feeling nauseous. "La Mia Bella Principessa." I whispered, crawling towards her on my knees, praying that this beautiful girl was alive.

* * *

 **Authors Note - Hi All, I was extremely anxious about posting this chapter so I really hope you have all enjoyed reading?**

 **Thank you to the guest reviewers in which I am unable to personally respond to, I really appreciate you taking the time to leave me a comment.**

 **Until the next chapter, BarneyBetty. :)**


	4. Chapter III - Another Man's Gold

**Authors Note - Hi All, Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed and added this story to their favourites.**

 **I wish I could respond personally to the guest reviewers as I am so grateful to you for taking the time to leave me a comment. As I am unable to do this, I just want to say a huge thank you to Beth, Leslie E & Guest for your lovely reviews. :) x**

 **I have re-written this chapter roughly six or seven times, which is why it took me slightly longer to update than I originally planned. I could not be any more nervous about posting this installment. It has however been a pleasure to write and I hope you all enjoy reading.**

* * *

 _ **Chapter III - Another Man's Gold**_

 **Edward Cullen**

 **'I don't care what happened yesterday. I'm going to love you today.' - Is what happily ever after is made of.**

When Emmett first glimpsed Rosalie Hale, he pulled me to one side and whispered into my ear; 'love is the absence of judgement.' I didn't understand. I was skeptical, baffled and amused ... Until now.

The beautiful doe was cradled into my arms, wrapped in a duvet we had salvaged from Hunter's residence. Her identity was unknown to me and I couldn't tolerate referring to her as a 'Jane Doe'. It was dispassionate, bureaucratic. The spirit of a doe brings you gifts of grace, beauty, illumination and mystic sight. The moment my eyes traced the contours of her alluring, pale, bruised face, I knew she was my doe.

She released a soft whine as Garrett was forced to apply the brakes, the movement jostling her within the confines of my embrace.

"Ssh," I breathed in an attempt to soothe her. My lips softly pressed against her temple and my brow furrowed in concern. Her body temperature was gradually beginning to increase, and as I lifted my hand to her forehead, I couldn't help, but observe how clammy she felt.

Seeing Carlisle apprehensively waiting for me as we approached the house, filled me with a small sense of relief. My younger brother is an excellent physician, the only person I would trust to attend to my doe's injuries. The porch light illuminated Carlisle's grave face as he swiftly jogged over towards the car, urgently wrenching the door open.

"Edward, you sounded distraught over the phone. I ..." Carlisle hesitated, his words trailing off as his eyes focused on the female figure I was clutching against my chest.

"Bella," he murmured, his expression aghast.

"Bella?" I repeated, perturbed.

His eyes were wide, smoldering with questions as his face visibly blanched, before elaborating. "She's a frequent patient of mine, at the walk in clinic."

My chest constricted with anxiety. "Is she sick?" I asked hastily, my mind reeling at the potential possibilities.

"No, I treat her for various injuries on a regular basis. All of which are consistent with domestic abuse." He muttered the last few words, almost inaudibly.

Many questions lingered on the edge of my tongue, and refraining myself was not an easy task. I wanted to know the entirety of her medical history. But as she shuffled against me, I was reminded of my priority. Her health!

It was slightly awkward, trying to hoist myself out of the vehicle, and hold on to Bella without disturbing her, too much. Carlisle must have noticed my struggling as he outstretched his arms, attempting to lift her from my vice grip. I found myself resisting the urge to snarl at him as he clutched her against his chest, supporting her head within the crook of his elbow.

I noticed Garrett observing the exchange from my peripheral vision. His usual playful countenance, replaced by an uneasiness that reflected in the tightness of his jaw. "She will be okay, Edward." His voice was compassionate, reassuring, his eyes imploring me to believe that her injuries were not too serious. I smiled halfheartedly in response, before following Carlisle inside.

The east wing of our property had been extended several years ago, and had been furnished with hospital equipment and supplies. I watched Carlisle intently as he gingerly positioned her onto one of the beds, discarding the bloodstained duvet as I cautiously approached, my hand moving to tenderly stroke her hairline.

"Edward, I would appreciate a little assistance." Carlisle was rummaging through one of the cabinets as he spoke, presumably searching for supplies.

"Of course," I replied as I removed the blazer I was wearing, pitching it across the room.

He passed me a pair of scissors, "I need you to remove her clothing."

I swallowed audibly. Tearing through her clothes felt lecherous, even in these circumstances. I wasn't a doctor and I didn't want my actions to disrespect, or violate her in any way. I think Carlisle anticipated my hesitation as he continued to speak, not once glancing in my direction.

"I can't examine her fully clothed, Edward."

The professionalism in his tone motivated me, and I clenched my teeth tightly as the scissors easily snipped the threadbare, cotton shirt she was wearing. I tried to focus my gaze on the metal blades in my right hand as they worked, I wanted to remain considerate. Unfortunately my eyes slipped as I glimpsed the dark discolouration, marring the full expansion of her torso. I gasped sharply, grappling the edge of the bed, my knuckles white. I could feel it; the rage, scorching within my chest, threatening to erupt.

"Are you okay?" Carlisle asked, his hand resting on my shoulder.

I shook my head vehemently, struggling to control my anger. I will never have the satisfaction of clawing him apart, slowly. Watching his eyes, wild and frantic with pain. Bella deserves justice, to be able to witness Hunter suffer at the mercy of my own hands.

"I understand your exasperation, Edward. But ... If you continue to allow your emotions to cloud your judgement, I am going to have to ask you to leave. The only way to help Bella at the moment, is to medically treat her. "

My head steadily bobbed in response, affirming my agreement as I resumed my position. The jeans were harder to remove, the metal blades labouring against the tough denim. It took several minutes, and once her clothing had been shredded, I moved to delicately caress her forehead. The action distracted me, impeded my musings, allowed me to focus solely on Bella. She exhaled softly, and I held my breath for a few moments, anticipating she would drift back into unconsciousness.

I watched closely, my expression guarded as she fidgeted underneath my hand. Concern etched upon my features as her face contorted, a sharp yelp escaping her lips.

"Carlisle," the urgency in my voice was unmistakable, and possibly unnecessary as he was already approaching, his fingers struggling to release the cannula from its plastic packaging.

Bella was becoming more agitated, her eyelids fluttering maniacally until they abruptly opened. Her eyes possessed their own vocabulary. What a beautiful language to learn. It was absurd, chaotic, electrifying. The atmosphere intensified. My senses heightened. The heart, beating within my chest pulsed, painfully. It was a vivid, striking sense of awareness. My ears gently humming as my grandmother's voice serenaded my musings ... 'the greatest treasures are those invisible to the eye, but are felt by the heart.'

Bella's beautiful, hazelnut irides, glassy with confusion, and haunted by a multitude of demons locked onto mine. The fluorescent light reflecting off both her irises reminded me of a natural axinite gemstone. Adoration blazed, fusing a stronger passion. My entire body, breath and being igniting, burning, and then there was only realization; love.

Her bleating cry broke through my reverie as her arms flailed. I snapped into action quickly, agilely placing my hands, on her shoulders, trying to keep her still, attempting to prevent her from inflicting more damage.

"Ssh Bella, you're safe here." I crooned against her ear as I stroked my finger, softly against the edge of her collarbone. I was aiming to try, and distract her, allowing Carlisle to administer a dose of morphine, via the cannula he had inserted into the back of her left hand. It was meant to act as a pain reliever. However, it seemed to take the effect of a sedative as her head groggily slumped against the pillow.

My eyebrows rose as Carlisle let out a string of curse words under his breath. I very rarely heard him use such colourful language, especially while treating a patient.

"Is something wrong?" My voice sounded slightly laboured, and I placed a fragile kiss against Bella's temple, trying to divert my attention, to stop the apprehension from gnawing at me.

"Please stop worrying, Edward. You will have grey hair before twilight."

I narrowed my eyes in response, choosing to remain quiet as I was unable to think of a snappy retort.

"Do you hear that?" Carlisle asked, as he deposited a gauze on the laceration underneath Bella's right breast, applying pressure.

"No? What am I listening for?"

"It's the sound of Edward Cullen, subdued into silence. Now, that is a rarity." A wry smile lingered on his lips as he spoke, his concentration solely focused on Bella, regardless of our conversation.

"You do realize, I am in possession of a firearm?" I teased, my fingers hovering above my holster for dramatic effect.

"Yes, and all the scalpels are in my custody." Carlisle replied, his eyes wide as he inspected her wound more closely.

"Seriously though ... is," I enunciated this word very bluntly, wanting him to speak candidly, "something wrong?"

There was a slight moment of hesitation, a look of solicitude crossing his features as he responded. "When Bella started to writhe, she tugged at this gash. It's started to hemorrhage again, and I think there could be something embedded ..." He grit his teeth together, his voice wavering as he reached for the surgical light, yanking it closer.

I almost chortled as Carlisle's lips started to move comically, it appeared he was mumbling to himself. My stomach was starting to ferment with anxiety as he reached for the tweezers, positioned on the top tier of the stainless steel medical trolley.

The seconds slowly ticked by as I stood static, my feet rooted to the floor beneath me. Suddenly Carlisle exhaled a long breath, his wrist daintily twitching in different angles. I waited, my hand intertwining with hers, and then ... I gagged.

I wouldn't associate my reaction with the phrase squeamish. The nausea, flaring through my windpipe, was a reflection of the sheer horror she had been forced to endure. I shook my head despondently, as the sickeningly, broad, serrated glass fragment, splashed solidly against the wrought iron medical basin. I couldn't tear my gaze away. It's harsh, jagged edges taunting, antagonizing me, provoking my anger.

Preventing the images from flashing across my eyes, was futile. Hunter charging towards her, wielding a broken glass bottle. Bella appeared so small, vulnerable, fragile. My lips curled in anger as I vaguely registered Carlisle sterilizing the wound using saline solution. My resolve was beginning to crumble, the violence consuming me. I needed to escape, if only for a minute.

It took less than a few seconds to flee, my back propped against the closed door behind me, a ferocious roar sounding from my chest. I lunged, my hands thrusting, clawing at the antique porcelain vase, perched on the display unit. Heaving it across the corridor with force, gave me a meager amount of satisfaction. It smashed obtrusively against the marble floor, the flowers scattered, the water showering the skirting board upon impact.

The action didn't appease me and I reached for the display unit, hoisting it awkwardly with both hands. It was a cumbersome piece of furniture, and I was unable to propel it a great distance. The glass door collapsed as it collided against the hard surface, the oak frame remaining whole. It stood erect, goading me. A vociferous cry escaped my lips and I hurtled forwards, assaulting it viciously, kicking and punching in a coarse state of hysteria.

* * *

 **Authors Note - This was such a difficult chapter to write and I really hope I have managed to do it justice?**

 **Thank you for reading. xx**

 **BarneyBetty :)**


	5. Chapter IV - Ambiguous Skeletons

**Hi All, Please accept my apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. I planned to update over a week ago but I decided to rewrite the entire chapter. This certainly isn't a long installment but it did take quite a long time to write. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed and added Footprints to their favourite stories. I always try to personally respond to my reviewers but I haven't managed to reply to everyone yet as I wanted to focus on the next update. I will respond to all of you within the next few days, I just wanted to post the chapter first.**

 **Thank you, BarneyBetty x**

* * *

 _ **Chapter IV - Ambiguous Skeletons, Closets, Demons & Angels**_

 **'In violent streets and broken homes, the cry of anguished souls is not for more laws but for more conscience and character.'**

 **Edward Cullen:-**

 **All the violence & brutality I have witnessed could never have prepared me for this. Women are to be protected, respected & cherished. Is it conceivable that I am not the fiend? Not the tormentor? Perhaps in her eyes, I could be the angel, the guardian, the protector she deserves?**

 _It was a lucid, unambiguous state of unconsciousness ..._ I was staring directly into her beguiling, tantalizing irides, unearthing a language so beautiful and infinitely profound. The conflicting sensation; elementary yet complex. Everything and nothing, fluently conveyed within the fervency of our gaze.

"Bella," I murmured as my fingers tentatively reached to caress her pale, flawless face. She smiled serenely, her eyelids slowly drifting closed. I was powerless. Incapable of preventing the overwhelming rumble sounding from my chest, a throaty grunt emitting from my mouth. She released a soft, contented sigh as the pad of my thumb traced the contours of her delicately, defined lips.

"You're not frightened?" I breathed, my voice wavering with passion.

"Surprisingly no." Her voice was soothingly melodic, and warm breath, pleasantly tingled against my skin as she spoke.

"Can you feel it?" The absurdity of my question was disconcerting. My reality adrift, my conscience ardent with emotion.

"Yes ..." She whispered, her dainty palm reaching towards my breast bone, enveloping my rapidly beating heart.

Our silence was staggering. The air whispering, as a light breeze assaulted the atmosphere. I could sense the ambience shifting, my breathing laboured. Sharp gasps could be heard as my eyes followed a solitary tear gliding down Bella's cheek. I convulsed, agonizingly. The inconsolable grief etching on to her features, causing my distress. Bella's unoccupied hand seized mine, tugging slightly on my fingers, before elegantly placing an ebony coloured feather.

"A corrupt heart elicits in an hour all that is bad within us." Bella rasped, her pain evident. She started to tremble violently, and I watched paralyzed as the quivering intensified, before she agilely transformed into a raven ...

"Edward!"

I jerked, panting heavily. The weight, knocking against my shoulder, startling me. Dazed and confused, I started to briskly flutter my eyelids, trying to expel the bleariness.

"What time is it?" I asked Jasper.

"A little after three." He replied, studying my face for several moments. The disorientation I was experiencing must have been visible as he continued; "In the morning."

"Carlisle?" I questioned, as my eyes started to focus on my surroundings. My voice gravelly from slumber.

"He's just stepped outside for a few minutes."

I nodded in response, grimacing slightly. My neck, stiff from dozing in such an awkward position.

"The Hunter residence?" Jasper's eyes brightened at my inquiry.

"Ashes and rubble." He replied, his gaze lingering, searching my eyes.

I nodded, my brow furrowing as Jasper continued to assess me warily. It was starting to make me feel a little self-conscious, and I cleared my throat gruffly in an attempt to divert his attention. Unfortunately my efforts did nothing to discourage him, and his persistent scrutiny seemed relentless.

"What?" I barked, my frustration evident.

"Nothing ... I just ... ummm." Jasper's flustered demeanor caused my lips to part in surprise. He has been mine, and Emmett's closest companion for nearly thirty years. Truly becoming a member of our family when he married our sister; Alice, and the uncertainty he was currently projecting was uncharacteristic. Unless ... of course?

"Is there something I need to know?" The frankness of my tone didn't faze him, and he smiled cynically before responding.

"Yes, we discovered ..." Jasper's words abruptly halted, as Bella released a howling wail, interrupting him, and urgently deflecting my attention towards her contorted face.

"Fetch Carlisle," I instructed Jasper, flinching as she began to sob arduously. The noise slashing, mutilating, mangling my throbbing heart. My emotions overwrought, frenetic with anxiety as she started to writhe, before recoiling; angling herself into a fetal position.

I watched, distraught with apprehension for Bella's recovering shoulder. Her right arm was swathed within the protection and support of a sling. Acerbic acid scorched through my gullet, and I took deep, long breaths, trying to suppress the queasiness. I endeavored not to dwell, but the memories were merciless, and I was vulnerable. I reluctantly recollected the nauseating click that sounded throughout the room, as Carlisle repaired the dislocated limb. This had been hours ago. Yet, the noise still fresh in my mind, reverberated through my ears yet again. My own reverie tormenting me.

"Police ..." Bella breathed, startling me ... "You need to call the police ... I've ... Oh, I've done something terrible ... I ... I ... Oh ..." Harrowing sobs violently racked her frame as she continued to speak, the words now incoherent. I timidly stretched my hand, my fingers weaving into her tousled locks, hoping she wouldn't recoil at my touch.

"I'm a killer ... I ... killed ... him." Bella was becoming more fraught with each passing second, and I exhaled with relief as Carlisle entered the room.

"Bella," Carlisle exclaimed, clumsily scrambling towards her. "Please be careful, you've dislocated your shoulder again ..."

"Again?" I interjected, tempestuously, my fingers tightly clenching, painfully. I vaguely registered Bella audibly gulp, and I cringed as I watched her face blanch at my volatile tone.

My gaze drifted towards Carlisle, and I could feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment. He stood glowering at my insensitive interruption and I dropped my head, slightly abashed as he continued; "It won't tolerate the strain if you continue to thrash your arms so vigorously."

Bella nodded softly, her dainty sniffles echoing within these four walls. "I d-d-d-don't understand? D-d-d-d-doctor Cullen, w-w-why?" Bella was stumbling her words as she spoke, her voice breaking, the sorrow apparent. "I-I-I've killed ... I d-d-d-don't deserve ... I-I-I stabbed him ... I-I murdered h-h-him ..."

"Bella," Carlisle's voice was full of authority as he addressed her, his fingers gently tracing the ugly, dark, purple bruising marring her neck.

"I have known you for three years. I treat you at the clinic every week. I stopped asking questions because I was fearful that I would intimidate you, and that you would have been hesitant to return. I couldn't prevent the abrasions, the broken bones, the burns, the lacerations, you suffered, oh too frequently. But, I ..."

"It was an accident, I couldn't breathe." Bella wailed, her eyes wide with trepidation as she inhaled sharply. She whimpered, her hand flailing the atmosphere, seemingly searching. I raised my arm hesitantly in response, and her fingers grasped mine, clutching tightly.

"I didn't intend to kill him, Doctor Cullen. Please, I'm sorry." My brow furrowed at Bella's ramblings, and her misapprehension of Carlisle's words suddenly became obvious.

"No, Bella ..." Carlisle whispered, attempting to explain and ostensibly floundering.

I squeezed her fingers gently, convincing myself this feeble action was merely to offer her the comfort she desperately deserved. My conscience screamed; 'liar'. It was me seeking the consolation, I fiercely desired.

"I didn't know. I should have delayed, I should have called him when he didn't come home as expected. I ..." My heart splintered as Bella stalled, her words choked by another woeful sob.

I was appalled. My beautiful doe had endured too much. Yet, I admired her strength. Bella had survived. Battled to protect herself, and here, with her hand enveloped in mine, the battered, bruised, maltreated girl couldn't be more beautiful.

"I'm going to administer another dosage of morphine, I am concerned. She's a little agitated, and the pain must be severe." Carlisle murmured, whispering directly into my ear.

It was fairly impressive, only minutes after Carlisle had dispensed the opiate, Bella's entire frame relaxed. I watched her head slouch, her eyelids drooping, until finally drifting closed. I refused to remove her interlocked fingers, the physical contact easily placating my quick temper.

Several moments of eerie silence passed, before Carlisle released a heavy sigh, the chair he was maneuvering grating, garishly against the hard floor. "I should have helped her, Edward. All this time, I should have ..."

"You should have, what? You didn't exactly have a myriad of options." I replied, studying Carlisle meticulously as he heavily slumped against the seat. He yawned tiredly, his eyes closing for the briefest of moments, before snapping open.

"Our mother is still awake. She was curious as to why the antique vase that has 'been in our family for generations' took such a ... tumble." Carlisle paused, conspicuously attempting to gauge my reaction.

"She isn't aware ... she doesn't know about Bella, does she?" I asked, apprehensively. I couldn't tolerate Elizabeth's poisonous speculation, she would undoubtedly have an opinion with regard to this bizarre situation.

"No, I didn't divulge any information."

"I don't want that abhorrent, vicious, viper within a mile radius of my doe." I spat, failing to control my emotions.

"Esme mentioned what happened yesterday. I believe the insults our mother used were; 'Filthy, gold digging, floozy.' My wife is benevolent, altruistic, beautiful, and to simply know her is a privilege. I will never apprehend the malevolence and disdain in which she treats Esme. But ... Elizabeth could possibly relate to Bella's current situation, more than you will ever know."

I squinted my eyes, my lip curling with chagrin at Carlisle's cryptic admission."What is that supposed to mean? Elizabeth is a virulent, malicious person, seeking answers at the bottom of an empty whiskey bottle."

Carlisle scoffed menacingly, his eyes smouldering with apologies. "The world is a very colourful place Edward, black and white is an ideal sentiment, unfortunately it is not realistic nor pragmatic."

I rubbed my temple wearily, dizzy and overwhelmed with Carlisle's vague musings. "What are you implying?"

"Concealment is often effortless, Edward. The struggle lies in maintaining the deception, it festers. Our mother has been fighting demons for thirty five years. We all have skeletons lingering in the closet. But, what happens when those skeletons evolve, mature, cultivating the bones, allowing them to develop the flesh, tissue and muscle? Subsequently cracks appear in every aspect of the life you built for yourself, and the concealment that was once so effortless, ricochets ..." Carlisle laughed nervously, "Oh, it would appear I have a very vivid imagination."

I opened my mouth, attempting to acknowledge Carlisle's eccentric ramblings ...

"Jasper is waiting for you, outside your office. He has unpleasant ... sensitive information regarding Bella." Carlisle had managed to compose himself, deliberately changing the subject.

 _Unbeknownst to me, this bizarre conversation was cardinal ... Carlisle's theory was accurate. The perfect row of domino's did fall, the consequences devastating. Yet, I had no regrets, or remorse because of one constant I was assured of; Bella is my angel, the saving grace that I had already fallen irrevocably in love with._

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 **Thank you for reading. x**


	6. Chapter V - Two Sided Coins

**Warning - Please be aware this chapter contains references to verbal and sexual abuse. If this is a trigger for anyone, please do not read.**

 **Hi All - I just want to say a huge, massive thank you to the amazing Paige! No one would be reading this chapter had it not been for her support, encouragement and kindness. Also - A huge thank you to Sherry, Sue & Kara for supporting me and keeping me sane during the past few weeks. **

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed and added this story to your favourites. I haven't managed to respond personally to every reviewer yet, but I will drop you all a message within the next few days.**

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 _ **Chapter V - Two Sided Coins**_

 _ **Bella Swan - Forever Drowning**_

 **'Fairytales have got a lot to answer for, making memories of love when we were young. I'm okay, I'm alright, if we make believe tonight. Fairytales have got a lot to answer for, when the story ends, it's only just the start. You never read about all the drink & fights after dark.' **

_I was most certainly unconscious ... The images surreal, vividly intense. Many believe dreams to be unrealistic, fictitious. This was neither. The hardest fears to conquer are the memories you yearn to forget, yet regardless, they last an eternity ..._

My windpipe was blazing, my arms flailing at the stifling pressure. Filthy, coarse fingers grappling, clawing my throat.

My chest heaved arduously, my lungs inhaling strenuously as I gasped for breath, my husband's hands no longer clutching my neck. A remnant of relief rapidly withered, replaced by a brutal, agonizing sense of terror. Now it was the menacing eyes of my stepfather father; Phil Dwyer glowering at me, causing my anguish. This was no longer the house I shared with James, and I trembled. The ghastly, lime colored walls, triggering the enduring memories, and the violation, echoing within my eternally damaged soul.

The kettle released a howling whistle, and I whimpered in response. The urgency to flee, compelling me to scramble towards the solid, oak door. I wrenched the handle, savagely, and the scene that greeted me caused a vociferous cry to emit from my mouth. James' disgusting, loathsome fingers reaching for me.

"Wake up, Bella." I whispered, fiercely. Yet, my plea for consciousness was futile. I was trapped, cornered between two sadistic fiends. Phil's strong hand, roughly seized my hair, yanking me towards him. This nightmare was familiar, my reactions instinctive. I was that fifteen year old girl again, forever drowning, in the memories of my youth ...

The over bearing smell of alcohol assailed my senses, and I gasped, sharply as Phil viciously tugged on my arm, before herding me against the wall. His fingers began to roam the entire length of my body, the action causing my stomach to churn, nauseously.

I attempted to recoil from the horror of the situation, reciting lyrics, poems, and extracts of novels. Unfortunately, no distraction will ever eliminate the consuming, devastating consequences. Another large piece of me will fracture, leaving nothing, but barbed, splintered fragments. I will force myself to scour my flesh until it is raw, in an attempt to eradicate the defilement and lamentably, this action will be fruitless, as the self-loathing will undoubtedly devour me. There is no salvation, only an unyielding desire that this vicious cycle will eventually cease.

Phil's vulgar palm reached underneath my shirt, coarsely groping at my breast. I couldn't prevent my eyelids from closing tightly, as a barbarous roar erupted from his chest.

"Look at me." Phil growled threateningly, his other hand grasping my jaw, painfully. I gulped, a stray droplet of moisture leaking from the corner of my eye, as I forced my eyelids open.

"Take them off." He snarled, his fingers mauling the waistband of my jeans.

"No ... Please, I don't ..." I released a gut-wrenching sob, my entire frame quivering. I watched Phil's demeanor darken further, and I instantly regretted my refusal to cooperate. A thunderous, guttural rumble sounded from his throat, causing my breathing to labor in frenetic hysteria.

Strong, restraining fingers grappled my shoulders, before ruthlessly heaving me towards the carpeted flooring.

"Please ... don't. I'll tell someone, I will ..."

"Tell ... They won't believe you, Bella. No one will believe you."

Words have true power, and my entire entity obliterated. I wilted, accepting defeat. Phil stalked towards me, and a bleating cry escaped my lips at the rustle of his belt buckle. Realism replaced hope, and I was too detached to clamber away to escape.

I released a final clamorous wail, pleading for consciousness ...

 _'All the King's horses and all the King's men, couldn't put Humpty together again.'_

 _ **Edward Cullen - Forever Changed**_

 **'We must see in every person a universe with its own secrets, with its own treasures, with its own source of anguish, and with some measure of triumph.'**

It was a lovely, family photograph. The corners distressed and creased, presumably from constant fingering. Three exultant figures, their amusement discernible, caused a twinge of melancholy, an arduous ache assaulting my senses. The innocent, laughing, child, coddled within her father's embrace, evoking my own smile.

The lyrics 'all I want for Christmas, is my two front teeth' echoed within my ears, as I observed that both her central incisors were absent. The little girl appeared content, her father's gaze fixated adoringly, on his daughter's face, her eyes sanguine, devoid of the haunting violence. The elegant, refined script on the reverse, was most certainly female;

 _ **'Swan Family Photo, Bella - 6 Years, August 2003'**_

My chest wheezed, laboriously. The brown leather journal that Jasper had advised me not to read was precariously perched on the edge of my desk. It caused my stomach to contract apprehensively, its contents tormenting me. I released a frustrated sigh, as my fingers tightly clawed at my hair, an attempt to prevent myself from reaching for the diary.

Unfortunately, my efforts to follow Jasper's advice were futile. His features had been grave, subdued, and I felt aggravated by his instruction. My self-control waned, and in an impulsive urge, my hands grappled at the journal, and I scrutinized the first page.

It appeared to be written hysterically, the words nearly piercing through the page. The paper was slightly stained with smudges and blotches of ink, and my throat constricted. She had been crying when this had been written. I exhaled sharply and allowed my eyes to absorb the words.

 _ **May 15th 2010**_

 _It happened again today._

 _I can still feel his callous fingers, mauling my flesh. I've spent hours in the shower, scouring myself until my skin has started to crack. Yet, I'm still dirty, repulsive, vulgar._

 _My resolve is weakening, I don't have courage anymore. I can only confide in you. It is only you, who will believe me ... It hurts, my heart still beats, but it's mangled. I'm defective, worthless._

 _I want to close my eyes, but I'm terrified. I know he will be there, haunting my dreams._

 _How do I carry on?_

 _ **May 22nd 2010**_

 _Oh my dear friend, I tried to refuse, but he is too strong, too powerful._

 _I fled, foolishly attempting to hide within the confines of my bedroom. The beautiful yellow walls, I painted because of my mother's love for sunflowers have been tainted. I shouldn't have allowed it to happen here. I can scarcely look at my bed without breaking. I'm falling apart._

 _You are my confidant, my only solace. Yet, you are merely the unwritten pages of an empty book. I am alone, and I fear I cannot continue to fight for much longer._

The journal slipped from my fingers, as a tumultuous howl escaped my lips.

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 **Thank you for reading. xx**


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